


The Best Gift

by FortunesRevolver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day 1, Late Birthday fic for the precious roll, Late late late, M/M, Yuri!!! on Ice Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortunesRevolver/pseuds/FortunesRevolver
Summary: When Guang-Hong sighs for the umpteenth time that morning, his mother regards him with a brief look of irritation before her features soften with sympathy as she lowers the heat on the eggs she’s been preparing and takes a seat beside him at the table.“You look very glum for a boy who was excited to turn eighteen just a few days ago,” she says in a gentle tone.Chinese translation byMaysieben.Chapter 1-Chapter 2





	1. Chapter 1

When Guang-Hong sighs for the umpteenth time that morning, his mother regards him with a brief look of irritation before her features soften with sympathy as she lowers the heat on the eggs she’s been preparing and takes a seat beside him at the table.

“You look very glum for a boy who was excited to turn eighteen just a few days ago,” she says in a gentle tone.

Beside her, Guang-Hong hums absently in response. His shoulders are slack as he slumps against the table with his cheek pressed against the surface. Bags are visible under his eyes as he taps the screen of his phone and navigates through menus and apps he closes almost as soon as he opens them. Every few minutes, his phone buzzes to announce the new arrival of a notification, but the hopeful glimmer in his eyes lasts only a moment before he’s back to his aimless poking. “I didn’t sleep well,” he murmurs, and she clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Lying is bad on all days, Guang-Hong.” She moves and drops her hand atop his, stopping the movement of his fingers and screen and gives them a small squeeze. “What are you waiting for? You’ve been attached to this non-stop since yesterday morning.” There’s a pause before she adds, “Even for you, that is a bit much.”

“Everyone is wishing me a happy birthday.” The confusion on his mother’s face is apparent as he looks up at her and waits. He’s grateful for it, no doubt, and he knows he’ll be posting a few different messages across social media later to thank all his fans for their support -- as well as several private thank yous to his friends.

“Is that so awful?” His mother frowns and crosses her arms. “I think it’s nice so many people care to notice.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“...one person hasn’t.” It seems selfish to be upset now that he’s said it aloud, but even the silent self-scolding for acting childish doesn’t make the weight in his chest go away.

“One person?” Neither of them speak for several moments until realisation dawns on his mother’s face and she snorts, standing up. “Oh, the _American boy._ ”

The colour that suddenly blooms across Guang-Hong’s cheek is all the confirmation she needs before she returns her focus to the boiling eggs. “Bah, you worry too much. It’s the middle of the afternoon for him, I bet he’s at practice.”

“...for a few days?” Guang-Hong sits up and slumps back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t heard from him for _days_ mama.”

“Holidays are very big in America,” she points out and moves to the sink to dump out the extra water. “I bet he is with family then. Or travelling.”

“He would have sent me something…” It’s barely a mumble, but it earns him a look he knows all too well and he quickly sits up in his seat, just as his phone starts to go off.

“Answer quickly. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Guang-Hong barely pays his screen any mind and answers the call, almost jumping in alarm when suddenly the flushed face of Leo de la Iglesia stares back at him.

 _“Guang-Hong!”_ he grins and waves, his face still obscuring most of the screen. _“Good morning!”_

“Leo!” It only takes seconds for Guang-Hong’s forlorn mood to evaporate and bring him to his feet to seek out the partial privacy the hallway offers him. “Where have you been? I…”

“I know,” Leo cuts him off, his smile apologetic. “I’m sorry, Guang-Hong. I’ve, uh, been busy trying to throw a last minute project of sorts together. I missed you too.”

“A project?” Guang-Hong tilts his head in question. The mischievous light in Leo’s eyes is much too familiar to be as genuinely apologetic as his words would imply. His frown must show it, because Leo responds by pulling his phone back and Guang-Hong can finally make out the scenery behind him.

The very _familiar_ scenery behind him.

“Kind of, you see--” The electronic hum of Leo’s voice is cut off as Guang-Hong throws his front door open and nearly causes the chilly, surprised looking teen standing outside into dropping his phone. “--uh, whoops, that was fast.”

Standing in front of Guang-Hong’s door -- exhausted, cold, but still somehow able to offer a sheepish smile -- is Leo. “Surprise…?” Leo raises his hands and wiggles his fingers, as if to add to the effect after he pockets his phone. “You figured it out a little faster than you were supposed to, damn. We had this whole plan where your mom was going to send you to your room and then I was going to just sort of _be_ there at the table. I’d packed a ribbon for my hair and every--whoa!”

He doesn’t get to finish as Guang-Hong throws himself forward and comes dangerously close to sending them both over the railing with the force of his hug. A string of mixed half-hearted insults and elations follows as he buries his face in Leo’s shoulder and inhales deeply. It’s everything he’s missed desperately and remembered from when they were last together, and he practically purrs as he feels Leo’s fingers begin to card through his hair.

“Happy birthday, Guang-Hong…” Leo mumbles into the top of his head. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m your present. I might have splurged a little on the ticket to get here--”

“Hey! Inside! Now!” The sharp voice of Guang-Hong’s mother pulls them apart. “We’re not heating the outside and breakfast is getting cold!”

“Whoops…”

“...she ruined the moment,” Guang-Hong pouts, but it soon shifts into a smile as Leo’s hand finds his and their fingers lace together.

“We’ll have more, I’m sure,” Leo hums and steps out of his shoes, “I’ll be here for a week, if you’ll have me.”

“You’ll be lucky if I let you go home at all.” Guang-Hong looks up with a grin as he rubs at his dampening eyes. “I like to keep my presents.”

“Well,” Leo laughs as they make their way toward the kitchen, “I wouldn’t complain, but my coach might -- she can get pretty scary when she’s upset.”

“She can fight me,” Guang-Hong sticks out his tongue, “but you’re _mine_ for now.”

“Of course,” Leo leans over and presses his lips to Guang-Hong’s forehead as a plate of red-dyed hard-boiled eggs is set in front of both of them. “Now, later, always.”


	2. Joy, Life, and... Eggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guang-Hong will always be his mum's baby boy... and she his unofficial wingman.
> 
> For [ricochet.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/melas_chole/pseuds/ricochet) Because eggs.

Later, Guang-Hong sits in his room, turning in slow, absent circles in his desk chair. His cheeks are tinged in pink, the embarrassment of breakfast still clinging to the back of his mind.

“So…” Leo hums and rolls over in bed to watch Guang-Hong with an amused smile. “Breakfast was… interesting.”

Guang-Hong groans and buries his face in the teddy bear clutched tightly in his arms. “Don’t _tease_ me…” he mutters, muffled by the soft fabric. “Mom teases me enough as it is. The eggs are for _kids_.”

“...what?” Leo chokes and sits up, his eyes wide as his mind races and tries to comprehend why on earth anyone would have a custom like that for _children_. “K-kids?”

Guang-Hong looks up, confused, and draws his eyebrows together. “...yes? The eggs--” he pauses and tries to think how best to explain. It’s a little different than the birthday cakes he knows Leo is accustomed to. “It’s like--they’re supposed to symbolize like… happiness and new life and similar things, I guess that’s what makes the most sense in English.”

“...joy and life?” Leo repeats carefully, wondering if, maybe, he completely misunderstood what Guang-Hong’s mother had said to him on the phone. Then again, maybe it was exactly what it was -- the eggs were supposed to represent… kids?

“It’s for _babies_ ,” Guang-Hong emphasises with a pout, “and little kids. I’m an _adult_ now, but she keeps insisting on making me red eggs and says ‘you’re my baby boy, I will always give you red eggs because you will always be my baby boy.’” His voice raises in pitch as he tries to impersonate his mother and huffs soon after. “...I’m not a baby anymore.”

“...oh.” Leo’s face is doing a miraculous imitation of the eggs they’ve just eaten, and Guang-Hong leans forward in concern to try and feel his forehead.

“Leo…? Are you alright? Did you get sick on the--”

Leo pulls backward and catches Guang-Hong’s wrist before he can make contact and hides his face in his other hand. “...your mom told me about the eggs,” he mumbles, and Guang-Hong watches in fascination as colour slowly blooms from under Leo’s hand to spread across his cheeks and ears. “She, uh, she did mention kids… but it was more like…”

“Like…?”

 “...she explained it more like she was giving us a, uh…” Leo coughs and splits his fingers to peer out. “...having them?”

“Having kids? But we--” Guang-Hong stops and his eyes grow wide, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ before horror quickly overtakes his expression. “She did not-- _ahhhh!”_ He leaps out of his chair and runs to his bedroom door to throw it open and shout something in Mandarin Leo doesn’t quite catch, but he can tell from the squeak in Guang-Hong’s voice he’s very likely just as embarrassed as he is.

 _At least,_ he thinks as he stands and walks over to wrap his arms around Guang-Hong’s slender waist to pull him against his chest and card his fingers through his short brown hair, _this means she approves of us… I think._

The loud, amused laughter that carries down the hall from the kitchen and makes Guang-Hong hide his face in Leo’s chest is an odd comfort, but he’ll take what he can get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the story is actually over now. This was just a derpy little bonus.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually went online and looked up real flights to see if this was possible. Leo took an 18h 10m flight just to see Guang-Hong on his birthday, how even is this child still awake?
> 
> I wanted to get this done on the proper day, but I'm sort of a little late for it. :c I'm sorry about that, but life happens and yeah. I don't know that I'll be able to write for all seven days, but I really hope I'm able to push out at least one more fic before the week is done.
> 
> This is my second time writing for these two, so I hope I've gotten a little better this time.
> 
> ~~Also anyone who understands why the eggs are there at all gets bonus points.~~


End file.
